


Adventures With Sam

by padalelli



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2021 [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Anal sex toys, BDSM, BDSM themes, Blindfolds, Bondage, Bunny Kink, Butt Plugs, Caning, Choking, Clit Rubbing, Cowgirl, Cunnilingus, Daddy!Sam, Destructive Sex, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, Dom!Sam, Double Penetration, Episode: s14e15 Peace of Mind, Experimentation, F/M, Fluff, Foreplay, Hand Kink, Handcuffs, Mild Angst, Name Calling, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Power Exchange, Rough Sex, Safeword Use, Sensation Play, Sex with Clothes On, Slight Breath Play, Smut, Sub!Sam, Teasing, Vaginal Sex, Wartenberg Wheel, Wax Play, bunny role play, dom!reader, domesticity kink, established safeword, first-time kinks, kinky bunker sex, mentions of shower sex, pwp/porn without plot/plot what plot, role play, rope bunny, sex in dean's room, sub!Reader, vanilla bdsm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:42:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28508397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padalelli/pseuds/padalelli
Summary: The reader asks Sam to tell her about some of his fantasies, and in return confesses some of her own fantasies.Created for @SPNkinkbingo
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Reader
Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2088261
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43
Collections: SPN Kink Bingo





	1. Bound to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader asks Sam to tell her about some of his fantasies, and in return confesses some of her own fantasies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Created for @spnkinkbingo // Square Filled: Bondage

You nervously stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom you shared with your boyfriend Sam, wrapping your robe tightly around yourself, unsure what he might think of the conversation you wanted to have. You shyly climbed under the covers of the bed next to him and propped your head up on your elbow, staring at him. “Can I help you?” he inquired playfully, putting his book down.  
“We’ve been together for… a while now…” you began.  
He raised a brow. “Yeah?”  
“And we’ve gotten pretty… intimate…”  
Sam chuckled and turned onto his side to face you. “Uh huh…” He grinned, glancing down at your robe.  
“I just… think you should know that I really like you… And if you’re okay with it… I wanna… explore some things together…” You struggled to keep your voice from cracking.  
Sam’s hand was on your waist and pulling you closer to him as soon as you stopped talking. “Like what?” he whispered into your ear.  
You shuddered into his touch. “I wanna… give you what you… fantasize about…” you murmured, reaching to thread your fingers in his hair. “So tell me what your fantasies are…”  
“Right now I’m fantasizing about what’s under that robe…” His lips trailed along your neck, shoving the thick blankety fabric of the robe out of the way with his nose and chin.  
“Sam,” you gasped, tugging his hair to pull him away so as not to reveal the lingerie you wore underneath. “I’m serious… Tell me what you like.”  
Sam scoffed and leaned back, thinking for a moment. Or at least, looking like he was thinking. “I guess I’ve always been curious about… bondage…” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for your reaction.  
“You or me?” you asked directly.  
Sam shrugged. “Whatever you want. _If_ you want, that is.”  
You snickered. “Oh, _I want_.” You decided to take that moment to untie your robe and slide it aside, watching Sam’s eyes widen in excitement.  
“Uh… w-what uh… do you wanna uh…” he stuttered.  
“Don’t get shy on me now, Winchester,” you teased, sliding your robe off completely so he could see your red lace bustier and matching thong before you straddled him. You leaned down to whisper in his ear, resting your hands against his chest. “I think it’s only fair that we both have a turn… And I want you to tie me up first…”  
Sam’s hands drifted to your waist and gave a firm squeeze while he looked you over, licking his lips. “Should we establish a safeword?” he suggested.  
You nodded and leaned down to place a soft kiss against his lips, your way of thanking him for being so considerate. “Kansas?”  
“Sure,” he chuckled before rolling on top of you and snatching the tie from your discarded robe. You lifted your arms above your head, relaxing into the pillow as he bound your wrists to the headboard. “Are you comfortable?” he asked softly. “Not too tight or anything?”  
You smiled and nodded. “Yeah, baby,” you breathed. He leaned down to give you a peck on the lips before kissing down your body until he got to where you needed him most. “Sam, please,” you panted, already straining against the tie from the heat pooling between your legs.  
He pressed his thumb against your clit through your panties, putting pressure but not rubbing. “Please what?” he murmured deviously.  
“Just touch me,” you groaned, bucking your hips for friction.  
Sam shoved the fabric to the side and dragged his tongue through your folds. “Like that?” he hummed against you.  
Your instinct was to reach down and grab him by the hair, but you were quickly reminded you couldn’t, so you had to settle for drawing your knees up and bracing your heels against the mattress while he continued his oral performance. “God that feels good,” you moaned, verbally communicating your delight.  
He grabbed the backs of your thighs and buried himself deeper, his nose tickling your bundle of nerves. “Wanna make you come like this…” The vibrations of his words pushed you closer to the edge.  
“You will,” you squeaked, arching off the bed in another desperate attempt for friction.  
He chuckled before thrusting his tongue inside of you, reaching one hand around to rub your clit furiously with his fingers, and within moments you were seeing stars, the inability to touch him drawing it out that much longer. You weren’t even aware of the sinful cries coming from your mouth until Sam said, “Love hearing you make those noises.” He licked one last stripe up your pussy as you came down from your high, then he crawled back up to you and kissed you, his mouth still covered in your juices. “But I think I’ll take my turn for the main event.” Sam reached up to untie your hands, placing soft kisses around your wrists once they were freed. “Was that okay?” he asked, looking up at you with those puppy dog eyes.  
You sat up and kissed him chastly. “That was amazing,” you murmured in a daze, reaching down to take the tie from his hands. “But now it’s your turn…” You placed your hands on his shoulders and shoved him to the side and onto his back, straddling him.  
He grinned and relinquished his hands so you could tie him as he had done to you. As soon as he nodded to you that he was comfortable, you slid back to pull down his boxers, his already hardened cock springing free. He helped shimmy himself out of the article of fabric so you could settle between his knees on the mattress. You took him in one hand while you licked up the underside of his shaft, repeating the action until you were able to cover his thickness in saliva before taking him into your mouth. You heard the wood of the headboard strain against Sam’s movements, and hummed in satisfaction as you bobbed up and down. It wasn’t long before you had him whimpering, “Wanna be inside you so bad…”  
“Mhmmm?” you hummed, taking him as deep as you could in your mouth before releasing him with a pop.  
You reached over to the nightstand and opened the top drawer, fishing for a condom, all the while waving your ass in Sam’s face. You heard him take a deep breath in. Once you separated a single packet and got it open, you knelt back and slipped it onto him. “God I wish I could touch you right now…” he grunted as you crawled on top of him and lined him up with your entrance.  
“You had your chance earlier,” you reminded him before sinking down until he filled you completely. You both gasped at the feeling, moving your arms to brace against the mattress so you could lean down to press your lips to his.  
He responded in kind, kissing you back fiercely since he couldn’t mark you with his hands. “Please move, baby,” he begged, bucking his hips slightly. You giggled mischievously and slowly began to rock your hips back and forth, knowing he wanted more. “[Y/N]...” he growled, straining against the headboard and planting his feet against the mattress, searching for even the slightest bit of control.  
You giggled again and gradually quickened the pace, leaning down to suck and nibble at his collarbone. His new leverage allowed him to pound into you at the perfect angle, consistently hitting your sweet spot, still sensitive from your first orgasm. “Sam,” you grunted when you felt the tingle in your core. “I’m gonna—“ A couple thrusts later and you felt his body seize up as he climaxed. You kept bucking into him relentlessly until you ignited your own orgasm, listening to his delicious moans all the while. You relaxed on top of him when you finally rode it out, nuzzling into his neck and breathing heavy. Sam cleared his throat. “Oh, sorry, I just…. Had to catch my breath,” you panted, sliding off of him so you could untie him.  
“It’s okay,” he replied in a daze. “That was…” he trailed off, relaxing his arms.  
You threw the tie to the ground and fell back onto the bed. “Wow…” was all you could think to say. Sam turned onto his side and gazed into your eyes. “What?” you asked.  
He placed a hand on your cheek and grazed his thumb across it. “I’m so in love with you,” he admitted.  
You took his wrist in your hand and kissed around it. “I love you too, Sam…”


	2. Down The Rabbit Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader decides to plan a surprise for Sam, while he decides to test the limits of your newly discovered shared kink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Created for @spnkinkbingo // Square Filled: Rope Bunny

The morning after you and Sam’s first exploration with bondage, Sam broached the subject again. “So, last night…” he started. “Did you have fun?”  
You giggled and curled up against him, tracing his tattoo with your fingers. “I had… _a lot…_ of fun…” you replied in a low voice. It was true; you always had fun with Sam, even before you were sleeping together, but this opened up a whole new world. “Although, I never would’ve guessed that you’d like being tied up...” Now _that_ was the part that had surprised you. As soon as you asked who would be tied up, you expected to hear him reply ‘you’ without any hesitation. But he obviously wanted to respect whatever your boundaries were, so he let you make the decision.  
He snickered, draping his arm across your shoulders. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t enjoy being tied up nearly as much as I enjoyed seeing you that way,” he confessed, fidgeting with his fingers along your skin. “I would much rather have you all bound up for me…” Noticing his sultry tone, your head perked up to look him in the eyes. It was like the vibrations from his voice had made their way straight to your pussy-- and Sam could see it, too. “Would you like that, baby?” he murmured lowly, his free hand snaking between your thighs.  
Suddenly there was an uncomfortable amount of saliva in your mouth, and you unconsciously gulped, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Yes,” you whispered weakly, leaning into his touch. _So many thoughts about being all tied up for Sam…_ Tangling your hand into his hair, you pulled him in for a kiss.  
“I’ll have to do some shopping, then.”  
*  
You had no clue when Sam had been planning on doing the ‘shopping’ that he mentioned, so you did a little shopping of your own so that you could surprise him. Said shopping consisted of a new set of lingerie in a color you had yet to wear for Sam in the bedroom, in addition to some other accessories you picked up to _really_ push things over the top. You knew you didn’t _have_ to take the expression literally, but you wanted to. After hiding your findings under your side of the bed, you waited for him to return to the subject. It took about two weeks-- not that you didn’t pleasure each other in the meantime.  
Sam entered the bathroom right as you got out of the shower, his hands behind his back. “Could you hand me my towel, babe?” you asked, shaking off. He used one hand to fulfill your request while the other remained behind his back, his eyes glued to you as you dried off. “Can I help you?” you teased, securing the towel around yourself. There was a possibility in the back of your mind that he’d bring up bondage again, but you told yourself it was just wishful thinking.  
But then Sam licked his lips and clenched his jaw, his gaze turning predatory. “You sure can, babydoll…”  
There was no point in trying to dry the inside of your thighs. “What did you have in mind?” You tried to match the sexy tone he was using, glancing at his arms behind his back, thinking you might be able to get a look at what he was hiding from you.  
He smirked and finally brought the bundle of pink silk rope into your sight. “You can let me practice tying some knots…” he proposed in a low rumble.  
A grin spread across your face from ear to ear as you pictured Sam tying you up in all kinds of intricate ways. But you couldn’t forget about your surprise for him. “Only if you let me get ready first…” you replied, advancing towards him, never breaking eye contact. “I’ve got a little something I’d like to show you.” You winked.  
Glancing down, you saw Sam’s cock twitch in his pants. “Oh-okay…” he stuttered, his knuckles turning white around the bundle of rope.  
You stepped within inches of him and draped your arms around his neck, fingering the short hairs on the back of it. “How about you wait in here until I tell you I’m ready… And you can get naked in the meantime,” you suggested, subconsciously biting your lip as you started visualizing the events about to take place. Sam nodded eagerly before leaning down to kiss you, struggling not to just rip your towel off and run his hands all over you.  
You pulled away purely out of the need for air, and removed your towel, hanging it back on the rack. Turning back, you threw Sam a suggestive wink before exiting the bathroom and closing the door behind you. As soon as it was shut, you hustled over to your side of the bed and slid out your ‘box of goodies’. You tried to settle your nerves as you hooked on the white lace corset and matching thong; given his history, you had a heavy suspicion white would be his favorite color on you. Then you removed a bunny ear headband from the box and slid it in place, pondering what to do with the last item in the box. Go for it, or present it to Sam and let him do the honors? _Go for it,_ you decided as you picked up the bunny tail attached to a silicone butt plug. This kind of stuff wasn’t new to you by any means, but it wasn’t anything you had really done with Sam before-- hopefully he would be into it.  
Once the tail was comfortably in place, a rush of excitement coursed through you at the thought of Sam tying you up and fucking you like a bunny, and you couldn’t get to the bed fast enough. You decided to stretch out on your side, facing the bathroom door and propping yourself up with one arm while you draped the other over your thigh. “Okay, Sam, you can come out now,” you beckoned with your most innocent voice.  
Sam emerged from the bathroom, completely nude, silk rope in hand. The moment he saw you, dozens of images flooded his mind as he thought of all the different ways he could tie you up. He glided over to the bed and abandoned the rope on one of the unused pillows, leaning down to kiss you hungrily. “Look so hot, baby,” he murmured before drawing back again and picking up the silk ties. “Remember our safeword?” You sat up on your knees and nodded, looking him over. One of Sam’s hands pulled your chin up to make you look at him. “I need to be sure.”  
_Always so considerate._ A wave of relaxation flowed through you when you saw the sincerity in his hazel eyes. “Kansas,” you exhaled. The only reason you were comfortable enough to do this with him was because of how safe he made you feel.  
Sam’s own expression relaxed when he heard your confirmation, and he moved in to kiss your neck before pausing. “Is that…?” You assumed he finally saw the bunny tail from over your shoulder, and you smiled to yourself, humming in response. “Oh, you…” he purred, biting your ear gently, careful not to disturb the headband. “Turn around and get on your knees for me, baby. Hands on top of the headboard.” His voice was as gentle as always, but no less commanding.  
You bit your lower lip and rotated yourself so that you were facing the wall, propping your hands against the headboard and shimmying into a comfortable position. “Is this okay?” you asked him, wanting to ensure that he could maneuver around you as needed.  
The mattress shifted with his weight, and you felt the warmth of his body behind you. “As long as you’re comfortable,” he assured you, placing a pillow between your legs to help increase your comfort level.  
You clenched down on the plug of your tail, imagining how it would feel once Sam was fucking into your pussy. “Mhm,” you choked out.  
You lost track of time while he used the rope to tie you up in far more intricate ways than you had been anticipating. Not that you were complaining-- something about the way the ropes wrapped around your skin, the knots framing your each and every curve… Well, it felt good to know that Sam liked seeing you that way as much as you liked doing it.  
Once it seemed he was finally finished, he rolled out of the bed and paced around the room, admiring his handiwork. “You look so gorgeous, my little bunny,” he rasped.  
You wanted to face the sound of his voice, but it was impossible to look at him with your arms tied to the headboard in front of you, and your legs completely constricted behind you. Not without knocking your headband off, at least-- and you didn’t want to risk disappointing Sam. The only response you could muster was a whimper, then you felt the mattress dip under his weight again, and within seconds his hand snaked between your legs and he started rubbing your clit. You were reminded of the plug in your rear with the extra stimulation, and you moaned wantonly.  
“What’s that, babygirl?” he taunted, his breath tickling your pussy through the thin lace of your panties. Seeing you like this was bringing out a whole different side of him, and you were loving it.  
“S-s-sssammm…” you panted, wishing he would rub faster or shove his face in there or something, _anything_ more than what he was doing now. “Please,” you begged. “I need more… please…”  
He shoved the string of your thong to the side to expose your glistening lips. “Well, I was going to slick you up by eating you out nice and slow, but you look plenty wet for me…” he murmured, licking a stripe up your folds until his nose nudged against the silicone of your butt plug. “And I’m very impatient to see how you feel… _like this_ …” He withdrew his hand from your clit, opting instead to fist the bunny tail in his hand, making you clench around it at the slight movement. You were a panting wreck as Sam continued to fidget with the fur of the tail, massaging your inner walls with the silicone of the plug.  
Then you felt the full weight of his body push down on the mattress immediately behind you, and his cock was nudging at your entrance. You tugged against the ropes restraining your wrists to the headboard, trying (and failing) to sink down onto him. “Sam, I want you inside me so bad,” you whined through gritted teeth, your voice several octaves higher than normal, your pussy throbbing with anticipation.  
Granting your wish, he slipped half-way into you, overwhelming you with the sensation of him against the toy in your other hole. “Like this, bunny?” he asked as he wound his right hand into your hair, tugging just slightly.  
You whimpered, wanting to tell him _no, it’s not enough_. But you didn’t have time to voice your thoughts before he slammed into you further, bottoming out. “Fuck, babe,” you gasped, struggling against the ropes. “Move,” you pleaded desperately, throwing your head back.  
Sam snaked his left hand through the intersection of ropes at the base of your back, and the other migrated around to the front of your throat, his fingers curling around the silk tie that adorned your neck. His hips rutted against your tail as he noticed the heat of your skin, blessing you with the slightest bit of friction. “I don’t think I’ll last long like this,” he admitted, his breath tickling your right ear while all you could focus on was the feeling of his fullness inside of you along with the tail in your ass.  
You turned as much as you could to face him, nuzzling his jaw while your arms strained against the bonds. “I don’t care how long you last as long as you make me come,” you told him, trying to rock against him.  
He used his left hand to push you off of him, just enough for you to miss the feeling of fullness. “Don’t worry, bunny,” he reassured you before slamming back in and starting a gradual pace. “I got you.”  
Having him _and_ the plug filling you was absolutely sensational, and feeling Sam’s hold on your ties was only enhancing things. “I’m gonna come,” you shuddered, the band in your core ready to snap.  
You could tell Sam was holding himself back by the choked grunts he was emitting. “Come for me, baby,” he commanded breathily, feeling himself edging closer to his own climax.  
Shockwaves coursed through you as your walls clamped down around him for the briefest moment before he pulled out of you, spilling his seed on the back of your thighs. You couldn’t tell your moans apart from his, too focused on straining against the ropes that bound you as you rode out your orgasm. “Sammy,” you whined, feeling empty even with the plug still in your ass.  
“Sorry baby,” he breathed. “Do you want me to untie you first or take this out?” His fingers circled in the fur of the tail.  
“Untie me, please,” you requested, thankful he offered you a choice. “My arms are getting sore.” Not that you minded.  
Once you were untied (and unplugged), you stood over your nightstand and abandoned the bunny ears. Sam approached you from behind and enveloped you in your fluffy robe, wrapping his arms around you. “How are you?” he asked gently, needing to ensure that you were taken care of.  
You smiled and turned to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m amazing. _You’re_ amazing. I would’ve used our safeword if that wasn’t the case. Did you like my surprise?” You played with his hair, mesmerized by his galactic eyes.  
He smiled softly and his hands moved to cup your ass. “I _loved_ your surprise. Almost as much as I love you.”


	3. Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and the reader continue to explore new things in the bedroom, discovering all kinds of things about each other along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Created for @spnkinkbingo // Square Filled: BDSM

Ever since you and Sam had started being more adventurous in the bedroom, you wanted to do something special for the upcoming Valentine’s Day, but you were coming up with nothing. _Just talk to him about it,_ you reminded yourself. _That’s how this started in the first place. He’ll have an open mind._ Especially if he was going to be the one in control.  
You were in the kitchen getting dinner ready when Sam came home. “Babe?” his voice echoed throughout the bunker.  
“In here,” you called back loudly enough for him to hear, whisking the sauce for the chicken you were making as you wondered how you should bring it up to him.  
A few moments later, you heard his footsteps in the kitchen, followed by the placement of a paper shopping bag on the table behind you— and you thought maybe he’d start the conversation for you. “What are you making?” Sam inquired.  
You brought your mixing bowl over to the hightop table Sam was seated at. Setting it next to the pan you had already adorned with potatoes and green beans, you removed the chicken breasts from the bed of vegetables to dunk them in the sauce. “Honey mustard chicken. From a recipe I found on Pinterest,” you replied, focused on thoroughly coating the meat, and _not at all_ thinking about the black gift bag on the other side of the table. “Where’ve you been?” You asked, figuring it was the best way to get the information out of him  
Sam snickered before leaning against the table and glancing down. “I may have gotten a little ahead of myself, but… Well, we’ve been having a lot of fun lately…” he trailed off, looking to the ceiling as if it would tell him how to continue with the thought. Meanwhile, you placed the chicken breasts back in the pan and covered the whole thing with a layer of aluminum foil before putting it into the oven and starting the timer.  
All the while your heart was racing with the desire to hear what would come out of his mouth next. You turned around and gave him a questioning look, signalling him to continue, but he didn’t. Raising your eyebrows, you spoke up, “We have… But why do you say you got ahead of yourself?” You sauntered around the table and stood between his knees, wrapping your arms around his neck. _This has to be about his bedroom fantasies_ , you figured.  
His eyes darted over to the nearby gift bag. “I, uh… Well, I was thinking… Since Dean won’t be back at the bunker for another week or so… Maybe we could use this time to… try some more new things?” His voice was low, husky, and it hit you directly between your thighs.  
You gulped. “What kinds of things were you imagining?” you asked in a sultry voice, your mind racing with the possibilities of what was in that bag. _Of course I want to try more new things!_ You wanted to scream. But that wouldn’t be sexy.  
He seemed to think for a moment before voicing his response. “How long do we have on dinner in the oven?” he wondered, gripping your hips and reminding you of just the effect he had on you as you felt the goosebumps rise across your skin.  
Shivering from his touch, a grin spread across your face. “About forty-five minutes… Why?” You already had a pretty good idea, though— because you were thinking about the same thing you suspected he was.  
“I’d hate for it to get burnt.” You groaned frustratedly when you realized you wouldn’t have nearly enough time to play with whatever was in the bag before the oven went off. And if you knew yourself well enough, you wouldn’t be feeling so sexy after eating dinner. “What, baby?” Sam wondered.  
“Can it wait until tomorrow?” you voiced hesitantly, knowing he would understand. When his brow furrowed, you explained, “I’m gonna need _a lot_ more than forty-five minutes.”  
*  
Sam had put the bag aside by his nightstand, patiently waiting for you to request to see its contents. He didn’t have to wait long— you woke up in his arms the next morning and immediately drew your lips to his to wake him. To say the least, you were impatient.  
“Hm?” he hummed as he opened his eyes, not having enough time to kiss you back before you pulled away. He was still groggy, recovering from the dinner he had indulged himself with the night before, and waking his mind up from a very vivid dream.  
You rolled on top of him and he reflexively drew his arms around your waist. “Sam,” you cooed, showering his face in gentle kisses. Honestly, you were surprised he had slept in for so long.  
“What, baby?” he mumbled, turning his head to meet your lips with his own. Even in his tired state, he knew you well enough to know the most likely reason you were waking him up like this.  
You tangled your hands in his hair and released yourself to his lips, sighing blissfully before you actually responded. “I wanna know what’s in the bag,” you whispered, tugging his hair. You were surprised you hadn’t talked in your sleep that night, given the bits and pieces of your dreams that you remembered. But then again, Sam could still prove you wrong.  
Sam chuckled and pulled you against him, reveling in the feeling of his skin against yours and grinding his morning erection against your bare center, both of you having slept naked. “Is that right?” he murmured, kissing you again.  
You nodded against his lips, lingering on the way they fit so perfectly against yours. “Tell me,” you demanded breathily as you rocked your hips against him, his dick sliding through your already wet folds.  
His hands were suddenly holding your hips in place, barring you from continuing to rub against him. “Pick it up and see,” he demanded through clenched teeth.  
_Fuck, that’s hot,_ you thought of his commandeering tone. You felt your pussy throb against his shaft just before it twitched against you. “Okay,” you squeaked, waiting for him to release his hold on you so you could reach over to grab the bag. His hands let up just enough for you to do so, and you impatiently tore the tissue paper out of the bag so that you could see the contents inside.  
Sam must’ve seen the excitement in your eyes when you finished identifying the items. “So… Do you want to?” he asked coyly, but you knew from what you had just seen that he was anything but coy at this point.  
_Does he even have to ask?_ You wondered. “Right now? Because this kind of stuff seems like a nighttime activity…” you joked. The truth was, you could spend all day exploring _everything_ in that bag if he wanted to.  
“Shut up,” Sam snickered, snatching it from you and dumping everything onto the bed. “Like you can even tell the difference in this place anyway.” He wasn’t wrong-- his room in the bunker lacked enough natural light to be able to do so. “What do you want to start with?” Given that this was still fairly new territory for you two, he wanted to let you lead with what you were most comfortable with.  
You dismounted him and rummaged through everything, replacing the unneeded items (for the time being) back in the bag as you made your selections. Sam observed the process, waiting for you to voice your confirmation. After seeing the lustful look in his eyes, you decided to hand over the items one by one. “I want you to cuff me,” you rasped as you dropped the satin handcuffs on his chest before him. “And blindfold me...” The black silk tie was next. “And then I want you to play with these…” Finally, you fanned out the candles in your hand, gauging his reaction. You had played with ice during sex before, which was why wax play was one of the first things you wanted to try.  
He grabbed the cuffs and the silk blindfold, smiling from ear to ear— you imagined it was because he had thoughts that reflected yours. “What’s our safeword?”  
“Kansas,” you replied, preparing for the possibility that you might have to use it for once.  
He took the candles from your grip and sat them down on the nightstand. “Good girl. Now lay back on the bed for me, baby.” You nodded and bit your lip, settling yourself on your side of the mattress. You propped yourself up while he secured the blindfold around your eyes. “That comfy, baby?” he checked in with you.  
You were unable to see anything except for the images in your head. “Yes,” you breathed, relaxing back into the pillows and holding your wrists out for him to handcuff you. You inhaled sharply from the feeling of the satin against your skin, tingling you to your core. _Handcuffed, blindfolded, completely at Sam’s mercy._  
Sam made sure the cuffs had enough give. “Not too tight?”  
You wriggled your wrists around comfortably, then shook your head and lifted your arms up and over your head. “No, baby,” you answered breathily. “Please touch me,” you begged, spreading your legs.  
The bed dipped between your legs and Sam’s hands landed on your knees and slid up the inside of your thighs. “You want me to touch you, kitten?” he purred.  
You bucked your hips up aimlessly. “Sammm…” you whined, craving his next touch.  
“What was that?” he snarked, digging his nails into your thighs.  
You gasped at the pleasure-pain, unsure what he was getting at. _Kitten…_ you lingered on the new nickname. “Touch me, daddy,” you corrected yourself, picturing the devilish look on his face.  
“That’s my good girl,” he murmured before his tongue was buried in your folds.  
Resisting the urge to reach down and grab his head, you threaded your fingers through your own hair as you cried out in pleasure. His hands shifted under your ass as you bucked up your hips, the tip of his tongue circling your entrance while his nose teased against your clit. “Daddy, please… wanna feel you…” The pressure in your core was building at a steady pace.  
“Not yet, kitten,” he said against your heat. “I like seeing you like this… How many times do you think I can make you come?” He squeezed your asscheeks and sealed his lips around your bundle of nerves. The feeling had you so wound up that you didn’t even realize when your hands flew to the back of his head until your fingers were threading themselves through his locks and shoving him against you. He quickly overpowered you and withdrew his face from your pussy. “Now, I didn’t say you could touch me yet, kitten,” he told you as he reached back to grab the chain between the handcuffs and crawled up to pin your hands above your head, settling between your knees. “Maybe I should’ve chained you to the headboard…” His breath tickled your throat.  
“‘M sorry, daddy,” you hummed. “Just felt so good…” And if he had chained you to the headboard, you’d have to deal with sore arms again. You decided it would be in your best interest to be a bit more obedient.  
His lips placed open-mouthed kisses along your neck while his thumbs circled your nipples, causing you to shudder. “I know, baby… I’m gonna make you feel _really_ good,” he promised, his dick teasing your folds.  
_You’re already making me feel really good, you thought, biting your lip._ “Please,” you moaned wantonly, trying to line him up.  
He snickered right before you lost all contact, your body tensing up from the loss of touch. “I will, just not like that.” You curled your fingers around the bars of the headboard, certain your knuckles were white from the strain. “Do you trust me?” he asked in a soft voice before you heard him pick up the candles and open the nightstand to (presumably) retrieve a lighter.  
He never ceased to amaze you with how loving he was. “I trust you, Sam,” you assured him, knowing he wouldn’t mind the use of his name in this instance.  
Suddenly his lips were on yours, and you eagerly took the chance to kiss him back. “I love you,” he blurted.  
“I love you,” you giggled in response, wondering how you ever got so lucky.  
*  
“So by my count, that was six orgasms,” Sam stated matter-of-factly after you had both cleaned everything up.  
You wrapped yourself in your robe and plopped back down on the bed with him, exhausted despite hardly doing anything except let Sam pleasure you all morning. “Mhmmm,” you hummed. If you were being honest, they blended together so much that you lost count, so you took his word for it. “Which means she’s not gonna be up and running for awhile, so I hope you have a way to take care of yourself,” you teased.  
“Oh, I can wait,” he replied as he pulled you into his arms, his hands landing on your waist. “I have to take care of you first,” he said lovingly, knowing you needed time to recover.  
“Is that so?” You grabbed him by the neck and pulled his lips to yours for a heated kiss.  
He gently bit your lower lip before withholding himself with a slight growl. “Promise me everything was okay?” There was that caring side of him, the side that you fell in love with.  
You nodded and looked deep into his eyes. “I promise everything was _perfect,_ ” you ensured him, and you really meant it. “Like I said, I would’ve used our safeword if it wasn’t.” Letting out a sigh of relief, Sam’s face softened again. “I just want to please you.” You cupped his cheek in your palm and stared into his hazel orbs.  
Sam gently wrapped his fingers around your wrist, pulling it to his lips to kiss the slightly pinkened skin. “You never stop pleasing me, sweetheart,” he murmured. You felt like a blessing to him, although he knew that couldn’t be possible.  
“How about we go take a shower… And maybe I’ll please you there...” you suggested, tracing his collarbone with the fingers of your free hand. Just because you were too sensitive for any more action didn’t mean he was too.  
“That sounds like a fantastic idea,” he flirted back, the corner of his lip curling into a half-smile.  
You swept your lower lip under your teeth and nodded. The look on his face was doing nothing to help sooth the lingering tingle between your thighs. Despite making you come half a dozen times, you had yet to have his cock inside you that day-- you knew it was his punishment for you without him having to say it. “Mhm…” you hummed in response.  
“So what are we still doing in bed?”


	4. Mr. & Mrs. Smith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A weird hunt reveals a new side of Sam to the reader. Naturally, it’s a side of him she feels like she doesn’t know, so Sam attempts to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Created for @spnkinkbingo // Square Filled: Justin Smith (Sam)

“This place is weirdly picturesque,” you remarked as you and Sam made your way to the front door of the boarding house. You had been suspicious the moment you walked into the diner, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. All you knew was that there was an uneasy feeling in your gut, so you had shoved your milkshake to the side while Sam sucked down his.  
“It’s kinda nice,” Sam muttered before knocking on the door, probably hoping you wouldn’t hear the comment, but it stuck with you nonetheless. The fact that you had gotten an IUD for him a few months back made it difficult to shake off the feeling.  
Once inside the residence, you rummaged around in the victim’s bedroom while Sam distracted the house mother by taking up her offer for coffee. Meanwhile, you found a stockpile of steamy love letters under the boy’s mattress.  
“Find anything?” Sam asked when he came back in. You had read a few of the letters by then.  
“Just a bunch of smutty love notes from Sunny,” you mumbled.  
Sam raised a brow. “Smutty?”  
You glared back at him. “Use your imagination, Sam,” you sassed, knowing damn well he knew what the word meant. “We need to go back to that diner.” If anyone was going to have any information about what happened to Conrad, it would be her.  
Sam continued to sip on his tiny cup of coffee. “It’s getting late, we need some rest, why not hunker down for the night? Ms. Dowling’s making pot roast,” he told you excitedly.  
_Hmm… Odd…_ you noticed. “You wanna stay here?” You wondered.  
“Why not?” Sam shrugged. You brushed it off because you knew he hadn’t had a nice bed or a nice meal in far too long, but you weren’t going to be a sitting duck while he got his R&R.  
“Something seems off… I think I’m gonna run back to that gas station tonight,” you decided.  
“Do you want me to come with you?” He sat the small (now empty) mug on the hutch in the corner of the room.  
You felt uneasy about the whole thing. “No, it’s okay. Stay here and have dinner and get some rest. You need it. I can handle going to the convenience store,” you replied, thinking it would be that simple for some reason.  
But of course it wasn’t. When you returned to the boarding house, you had no clue where Sam had gone. And Ms. Dowling wasn’t any help. _Guess I’m going to Harrington’s,_ you told yourself.  
“I have more questions for you later, but what I want to know right now is where my partner went,” you spat at the waitress, slamming your white-knuckled fists against the counter.  
“What? Why should I know?” Her voice trembled slightly as she stepped back, curling her lip up in what you could only describe as disgust.  
You leaned over the counter and grabbed her by the collar. “The milkshakes. You served us the milkshakes. Did you put something in them? Huh? Have someone take him?” The only difference between you and Sam since you had gotten to that town had been that he was drinking the milkshakes, the coffee, and eating the pot roast.  
Sunny’s eyes widened in fear. “No! He came in a little while ago asking about Mr. Smith…”  
“What about Mr. Smith?” you questioned, releasing her from your grasp. You had already spoken to Mr. and Mrs. Smith earlier that day, albeit briefly.  
The ginger furrowed her brow, smoothing out her collar. “You don’t know?” she asked in confusion. “He…” You could tell by the glassiness of her eyes that his fate had probably been similar to that of Conrad’s. “Your partner said he was going to his house to talk to Mrs. Smith.”  
Going to the Smith’s house only made your blood boil more. Seeing Sam pretend to be Justin, watching him cheese over his fake wife. “You know what, would you mind giving me a moment? I’ve got a fantastic bottle of wine in my trunk I’d love to share with you,” you lied, knowing you had to get help. Normally, you could handle something like this without him, but going up _against him_ would be a whole new challenge.  
“Oh, that sounds delightful,” Justin-Sam replied happily, kissing Mrs. Smith on the cheek. “I’ll fetch some glasses.” You couldn’t decide if you wanted to vomit or to slap him.  
You hid your cringe behind a smile. “Great. I’ll be right back.” As soon as you reached the car, you opened the door and sat behind the wheel, speeding up the road so that you could get cell reception. “Pick up, pick up,” you begged as you held the phone to your ear.  
“What?” Dean’s voice replied from the other end.  
“I need some help with the situation in Arkansas,” you panicked. “It’s… weird.” That was the only way you could describe it to Dean without him actually being there with you.  
There was a pause on the other side of the line. “Weird how?” _Ugh. Of course he wants to know weird how._  
“Weird like Sam drank the metaphorical Kool-Aid which was a seemingly regular milkshake, and now he’s suddenly replaced June Cleaver’s husband,” you hissed, knowing you didn’t have nearly enough time to explain everything to him.  
“I’m sorry, what?”  
“Just send Cas, please. I can’t do this alone.”  
*  
To say you were bitter about the whole fiasco by the time you returned to the bunker would be a major understatement. “How’d everything turn out in Arkansas?” Dean asked as you hustled down the stairs, Sam and Castiel several steps behind you.  
“Peachy,” you spat, rushing to get back to your bedroom and lock yourself inside. You had refused to talk to Sam the whole way back, frustrated not by the fact that you’d had to save Sam, but _why_ you’d had to save him. He had fallen for the town’s spell, and he had settled for a fake life.  
“What was that all about?” Dean asked his brother after watching you storm off.  
Sam sighed and dropped his bag on the map table. “I imagine it’s got something to do with what happened in Charming Acres,” he mumbled. But it wasn’t his imagination-- he knew that what happened in Charming Acres was exactly what was pissing you off.  
“Oh, you mean the cardigan thing?” Dean teased. Sam glared back at Castiel, who shrugged innocently. “Or do you mean the wife thing?” His tone turned more serious.  
“Which do _you_ think [Y/N] is upset about?” Sam sassed his brother before making his way to your shared bedroom, finding it locked when he tried to turn the knob. “Baby?” he called through the wood. “Would you let me in, please?”  
You ignored him, stripping out of your dirty clothes and rummaging through your drawers for something comfortable to wear for the night. You tried not to think about what he could’ve been doing in his time as ‘Justin’.  
His fist rapped against the door, jumbling your thoughts. “Can you please let me explain?”  
You settled on a simple cotton nightgown (in your favorite color) with lacy straps and slid it over your head. Unlocking the door but not opening it, you waited for Sam to come in while you sat back down on the bed. “Do you even know why I’m upset?” you asked once you finally looked up at him. You weren’t going to make this easy for him, given how hard it had been for you to see him that way.  
He closed and locked the door behind him before joining you on the bed, your gaze following him all the while. “You think I was really happy there.” He looked down and placed a hand on top of yours folded in your lap.  
“Weren’t you?” Your tone wasn’t angry, just sad.  
Then he took your face in his hands and looked deep into your eyes, practically staring into your soul. “Of course not. Not as happy as I am with you.”  
“Happy enough to forget me…” you muttered, uselessly trying to hold back your tears.  
“You’re what made me remember, though,” he argued in a pleading voice, pressing his lips to yours.  
You jerked away, not wanting to forgive him so quickly. “You just ran off and got a wife… And I had to _watch_ … Do you know what that was like for me?” Now your voice was barely above a whisper. Sam noticed the tears pooling at your eyes when you said, “What was wrong with being with me?”  
It took everything he had to hold back his own sobs when he heard you ask that. “Nothing, baby, nothing!” he insisted. “It wasn’t like that… Please…”  
“You’ve never treated me the way I saw you treat her…” you confessed the roots of your anger.  
He brought your lips to his once more. “I will treat you like a princess, from here on out, if that’s what you want,” he replied.  
You shook your head. “That’s not the point.”  
Sam pressed his forehead to yours and took your hands in his. “Then tell me, please,” he begged softly, squeezing your fingers.  
You sighed and collected your thoughts before voicing your response. “I never get to see that side of you… Moreover, you’re not happy enough here to show me that side of you… And you can’t try to tell me that it wasn’t real… Because I know you well enough to know that at least some of it was…” Sam leaned back and gave you his signature puppy eyes. “What if I wanted to drink martinis with you and put together a puzzle? What if I liked the idea of sitting down for dinner together every night? What if I liked the way you looked in a cardigan and glasses?”  
Sam was taken aback by the stream of questions, calm when he replied, “All you have to do is say so, honey.”  
*  
You were practicing your witchcraft in the dungeon when the boys got home from their hunt. Judging from the way the footsteps sounded against the concrete, you assumed (by the shoes) that it was Castiel that entered the room with you. But when you turned your head to look up at him, you were met by someone else entirely.  
“Damn, babe, you didn’t even have time to change?” you questioned when you saw what Sam was wearing. Cardigan and all.  
“I did have time to change. This was all I had left that was clean,” he replied with a slight irritation in his tone. “All my normal clothes got covered in… monster goo.”  
“Even your shoes?” you teased as he made his way towards you.  
“I lost one,” he mumbled, looking away as he said it. He tucked his hands into his pockets and waited for your laughter to subside. “Anyway, I knew you wouldn’t mind the ensemble…” He was obviously referencing your admiration of the look, something you had thought he’d forgotten about.  
You finally stood up from the desk and entered the archives with him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I seem to remember the previous iteration included glasses…” you pointed out. You hated said glasses, but you knew he’d look sexy as fuck in the right pair of frames.  
“Well, you kind of destroyed those when you tackled me to the ground and started making out with me,” he remarked, sliding his arms around you to place his hands on your butt. You smiled at the previously bitter memory.  
“I had to get you back somehow. Besides, another style would look way better on you anyway,” you commented. Sam exhaled and rolled his eyes, seeming to have remembered something. “What?” you prodded.  
“I have another pair of glasses,” he admitted in a low voice.  
You furrowed your brow, squinting at him in disbelief. You’d never seen him wear the aforementioned glasses. “You’re kidding me?” you questioned.  
Sam slid his lower lip under his teeth. “I, uh, got some blue-light glasses after realizing how much time I spent staring at the computer screen,” he explained. “But the difference in my view is negligible… which I now know that you might appreciate.”  
You slid your hands up to the collar of the sweater and pulled him in for a kiss, standing up on your tiptoes to reach him. “It could be… as long as they look good on you,” you joked.  
Sam snickered, shaking his head. “Well, I actually picked these ones, so I sure hope they do.”  
“You also picked that rusty bacon shirt long before we met and you still wear it to this day,” you snarked.  
“I am not letting you shame me into getting rid of it,” he said matter-of-factly. At this point he was mainly keeping it just to annoy you.  
“Oh, I’ll get rid of it eventually… Dean and I will start a coup,” you threatened playfully. “You didn’t put your hair back either,” you observed, reaching up to tuck a stray lock behind his ear.  
“Why would I when you’re just going to mess it all up anyway?” He squeezed your asscheeks.  
You secured your arms around his shoulders and began to lift a knee to his hip. Instantly recognizing your signal, he picked you up by the backs of your thighs and you locked your legs around his waist. “I’m sure you’ll want something to do while I get all dolled up,” you whispered in his ear as he traced soft kisses along your neck. You had just the outfit to match his role, and you were eager to see how he’d react to it. His eyes were already widening in excitement. “Go wait in our bedroom. I’ll have to grab some things from my old room,” you told him, giving him one last peck on the lips as he slid you back to the floor.  
“Kay,” he rasped, briskly leaving the room. You rolled your eyes and giggled to yourself before making your way to the bedroom that you had claimed when you first got to the bunker. You’d had to leave about half your stuff in the old closet, given that you really only wore it when the occasion arose.  
And this was certainly the occasion for your floral poodle skirt, which you paired with a thin white button-down blouse that revealed (if one were looking closely enough) the white corset beneath that Sam loved. You tucked the blouse into the skirt and pulled it taut so that a hint of your cleavage was peeking out. Then you pulled your hair into as neat a bun as you could and threw on some flats and a pearl necklace before scurrying down the hall and into you and Sam’s bedroom.  
“Look at you,” he marveled from his desk chair, his eyes raking over you hungrily beneath his glasses as you closed the door behind you.  
And _damn_ they looked good on him. _Everything_ looked good on him. “Tell that to yourself,” you purred, strutting towards him. Gripping onto his necktie, you straddled him in the chair, watching as he took in your appearance. His eyes lingered on the pearl necklace. “You like what you see?”  
Sam’s head darted back up, and he smashed his lips against yours in response. You slid your empty hand into his hair, deepening the kiss and grinding against the bulge in his pants. “Mhm,” he moaned into your mouth, wrapping one arm around your waist and holding onto your thigh with the other, lifting you up as he stood from the chair and glided over to the bed.  
He was gentle as he laid you across the bed and crawled over you, showering you with tender kisses all the while. “Sam,” you breathed, curling your fingers around his hair.  
“Tell me what you want, baby,” he whispered against your skin, leaving goosebumps.  
Rocking your hips into him, you replied, “You… in every way possible.” He snickered darkly before sliding further down your body, capturing a shirt button between his teeth and popping it open with ease. Surely there’d be a puddle in your skirt by the time he made his way down there.  
Once your blouse was undone, Sam sank back onto his knees and nudged the fabric of your skirt out of the way, getting a glimpse of his favorite lingerie you wore underneath. “Your wish is my command,” he answered before ducking his head under the skirt and burying his face between your thighs, lapping at your folds relentlessly once your panties were no longer an obstruction.  
You clutched onto the fabric that had been bunched up around your waist and cried out in pleasure when his tongue finally circled your clit, the glasses slipping off of his face and falling to rest on one of your hips, his nails digging into your thighs. “Sam!” you yelped, the pressure in your core building fast.  
“What, baby?” he murmured against your skin, his breath teasing your pussy.  
“I need you inside me, please,” you whimpered, squeezing his head between your thighs.  
He licked one last stripe through your folds before grabbing the glasses and leaning back. He carelessly tossed the glasses over his shoulder, then unbuckled his belt and undid his pants, his fully erect cock springing free from the restraining fabric. Holding his dick in one hand, he gave it a couple of pumps while he crawled up to you, his other hand propping himself up against the mattress as he lined himself up with your entrance. You slid a hand around his necktie again, gripping his ass with the other, and using the leverage to pull him into your wet heat. “Ngh, god, [Y/N],” Sam grunted before wrapping his mouth around the beads of your necklace and fucking you against the mattress.  
You dragged your nails up his back, shoving the clothing up as you went. He effortlessly hit your sweet spot with each thrust, and you knew you wouldn’t last long with the friction of your clothes moving things along. “Sam, I’m gonna come,” you panted, digging your nails into his shoulder blades. “Want you to come with me.”  
You barely felt the pearls tug against your neck before you heard the snap of the necklace and the beads hitting the concrete around you, consumed by the feeling of Sam filling you up. You clenched your legs around his waist while you rode out your own orgasm, unaware of the moans you were directing into his ear canal. Once Sam’s own whimpers subsided, he slowly pulled out of you and rolled onto his back, breathing heavily. “Sorry about your necklace,” he huffed, but he didn’t sound sorry at all. “I’ll buy you a new one.”  
“So you can break that one, too?”


	5. A Gentle Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam takes care of a sick reader by making sure she has everything she needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Created for @spnkinkbingo // Square Filled: Hand Kink

“I gotcha, hun, we’re almost there,” Sam reassured you as he carried you to the bathtub, your teeth chattering nearly too loudly for you to hear what he said.  
The high fever, lightheadedness, body aches, nausea, and fatigue that you’d had for the past week meant that you couldn’t even take a fucking shower by yourself. You’d held off as long as you could, but you could only wipe yourself down with Wet Ones and use dry shampoo on your hair for so long before it took its toll. Sam had put his foot down, not taking no for an answer anymore. You hated for him to see you like this, but he had argued that you’d seen him in worse shape and it was only fair that he returned the favor of taking care of you.  
He gently lowered your feet into the water, testing the temperature. “Not too hot, is it?” he questioned, always needing to make sure he wouldn’t hurt you. You shook your head, and he placed you in the tub, the epsom salts in the bottom tickling the backs of your thighs. Sam dragged a stool over to the back of the tub and placed your cleaning products on it, rolling up a small towel and resting it behind your head to serve as a pillow. “Can’t believe it took you a week to let me give you a bath,” he muttered, sauntering back over to the sink to grab the plastic cup he had placed there earlier.  
“I didn’t _let_ you,” you reminded him, closing your eyes and relaxing into the tub, gently resting your hands on the edges to avoid them pruning.  
“You’re right. I was being polite.” Sam walked back over with the cup and dipped it into the tub, snagging some of the bathwater. “I’m about to start washing your hair,” he stated a couple of moments before his palm shielded your face from the water he poured over your head.  
“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” you commented, trying not to move your head too much while he soaked your hair thoroughly.  
“I can’t believe you’re too sick to shower,” Sam sneered back, setting the cup down and bending over to pick up your shampoo and squirt it onto his hand.  
“Trust me, I’m just as disgruntled about it as you are,” you replied while he worked the shampoo into a lather on the top of your head, releasing a relieved sigh as his fingers massaged your scalp.  
“You don’t sound very disgruntled,” Sam remarked, noting the moans you were emitting.  
“Don’t act like you wouldn’t be making the same noises if I were doing this to you,” you sassed back sarcastically, surrendering all the tension that was in your body. “You’d be a really good masseuse…” you sighed.  
“Is that your way of discreetly telling me you want a massage?” he teased, finger-combing through your hair to make sure he hadn’t created any knots.  
“Maybe…” you hummed. “I mean, I won’t say no to a massage…” You began to imagine his firm hands kneading the tension out of your muscles, moaning softly as he rinsed the shampoo from your hair.  
“Well, once I’m done rinsing out your hair, you can get out and I’ll give you one when we get back to our room,” he told you.  
“Aw, my knight in shining armor…” you mused, waiting for him to finish ridding your hair of the foam.  
“You’re just as bad as Dean,” he scoffed under his breath as he circled around to help you stand up from the tub.  
You reached out and he took you in a firefighter’s grip to pull you to your feet. “You give Dean baths?” you snarked back jokingly, knowing he didn’t realize you’d heard what he said.  
“Can I let you go while I get your towel?” He ignored your fake question with a question of his own.  
“Help me step out of this tub first,” you requested, lifting a knee.  
Sam gripped your hip with a hand and helped lift you up and over the tub, sitting you against the edge of it while he left to grab your towel and robe. He dried you off while you leaned against the tub, slightly lightheaded from the steam of the bath. But it was the kind of lightheaded that meant you didn’t have any migraines formulating, which was a welcome relief. “Did you wanna wrap your hair up to dry?” he asked you once he finished toweling off your skin, holding the towel out for you if you wanted to take it.  
“Um, no… Could you just hand dry it for me?” you wondered, really just wanting another heavenly scalp massage from those long dexterous fingers…  
He smiled, seeing right through you and reaching for your robe. “Here, put your robe on, I’ll dry your hair when we get into the room,” he suggested.  
After helping you make your way to the bedroom, Sam untied your robe and hung it by the closet while you sat on the bed and crossed your legs, clutching a pillow against your chest as Sam settled on the bed behind you, draping your towel around your shoulders.  
He took hold of the bunched up fabric on the back of your neck and dragged it up the back of your head, wringing your hair out into the towel as he went. Once it was dry enough, he mussed through your hair with the towel to shake out the excess, combing through the strands with his fingers to keep it from knotting. Lost in the feeling, you whimpered when he sat back, confident there was no way he was already finished combing out your hair. It hadn’t been _that_ long-- had it? You turned back to look at Sam while you ran your hands through your hair, finding no tangles as he smirked over on his side of the bed. “Go ahead, lay down,” he coaxed, his hazel eyes soft as ever.  
Positioning the pillow under your torso, you laid down on your stomach and folded your arms beneath your head. “Wait, Sam, use some of the CBD oil in my nightstand,” you said as he rolled to the side and straddled your legs.  
“I was gonna use Vick’s Vaporub…” he mumbled as you felt the oil dripping onto your back, cold against your skin.  
“That’s for sinuses, not body aches,” you muttered, tensing as you waited for his hands to massage the oil into your skin, groaning in pleasure-pain when he finally started kneading your shoulder blades. His fingers expanded and contracted in a moving sunburst pattern, increasing in the amount of pressure he was using with each starting point.  
Sam chuckled at the nearly animalistic sounds you were making, settling his weight on your butt while he continued digging his fingers into the skin on your back, pushing and pulling and popping in all the right places as he moved his hands down your torso. Sam was struggling to keep his laughter contained as you sighed out all of your tension in unfiltered moans. “You’re so cute,” he mused.  
“Shut up,” you grumbled while he rolled his knuckles across your lower back on either side of your spine. That was where you held most of your tension. “Fffuuuckkk Sammm…” you gasped as he cracked your back, rubbing his thumbs in deep circles once you let your breath out completely.  
“Feeling better?” he inquired, lightly raking his nails back up the length of your back before starting all over again at your shoulder blades.  
“Mhmmm…” you hummed. He could do this for fucking hours, days even.  
“Do you want me to just focus on your back, baby?” he asked after a while.  
You weren’t sure if you had been daydreaming about the way his fingers felt as they dug into your shoulder blades, or maybe you had fallen asleep and you were just regular dreaming, but his question brought you back into reality. “Uh, yeah, sure. That and my shoulders… This is gonna sound weird, but the backs of my thighs are kind of sore too…” you admitted, knowing he’d think you were kidding in some way.  
“Noted.” Sam couldn’t take his eyes off your ass while he reached over to grab more CBD oil for your thighs, and it got him thinking about all kinds of filthy things he knew he shouldn’t be thinking about while his girlfriend felt as sick as she did-- but he couldn’t help himself. She was just so hot, and he was just so horny at the sight of her, naked, face-down on the bed, fresh out of a bath. Not to mention the sounds she was making. _And she had asked him to give her a massage…_ Well, that was something he was happy to oblige. “Anything else I can take care of for you, sweetie?”  
You detected a sultry hint in his tone. _Dear god, yes, you can take care of fucking everything…_ was the first response that popped into your mind, but of course you couldn’t say that out loud. “Just whatever you think needs attention…” you replied vaguely with an innocent voice, knowing what his interpretation would inevitably be. A few more drops of the oil fell onto the back of your thighs, Sam’s thumbs circling the liquid into the skin shortly after. “Mmm, feels better already…” you hummed, once again on the cusp of unconsciousness.  
Once again, you started dreaming about the feeling of his hands running across your skin. Starting at the backs of your knees, gradually working their way up your thighs to cup the base of your ass, massaging the cheeks. _God, those hands…_ His fingers teased your cheeks apart before his thumb lightly traced along the lips of your pussy, and you arched your back. “Is that what you want me to take care of, honey?” his voice rang in your ears, and it took you a moment too long to realize that you weren’t actually dreaming.  
“Mhmmm,” you whined, tilting your hips up for him to shove the digits into your wet heat. “Oh, Sam…” you sighed, spreading your legs as he curled his fingers inside of you, flexing your inner walls, his other hand digging his nails into your ass.  
“That feel good, baby?” His fingers moved within you at an unrelenting pace, not finding a pattern he seemed to be happy with until he hit the spot that made you buck up the most and cry out the loudest. “Oh, I _know_ that feels good,” he remarked once he got a reaction out of you.  
“Yes, Sam, feels so good!” you shrieked, grinding yourself against his fingers just before he lifted his other hand to smack against your ass, the pain intensifying the pleasure.  
When you propped yourself up on your elbows, Sam dug his fingers deeper and rubbed against your bundle of nerves with his thumb. “Go ahead, then, [Y/N], and come for me,” he demanded huskily, his fingers inside of you slowing while his thumb sped up against your nub, triggering one of the most intense orgasms you’d ever had.  
You were sure you were screaming loudly enough for Dean to hear through the bunker walls, your body shaking so hard that you collapsed back onto the mattress, having to pull yourself off of Sam’s fingers once you got too sensitive to handle it anymore. Panting too hard to hear Sam chuckle in satisfaction, your body relaxed into him when he pulled you into the little spoon position.  
“So…” he murmured, placing soft kisses along your jaw up to your temple. “Did I take care of everything?”  
You tilted your head back enough for him to press his lips to yours for a tender kiss before answering, “You sure did.”


	6. New Habits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader picks up a new habit she doesn’t talk about much, but then Dean decides to wake up at the crack of dawn for once, and sends Sam a surprising message.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Created for @spnkinkbingo // Square Filled: Role Play

You noticed the difference in how you felt the first time you did yoga while Sam was out on his early morning jog, so you decided to try to make it a regular thing. Two months later, you had filled your drawers with yoga pants and matching sports bras, and stockpiled several yoga mats of assorted colors in the gym. It wasn’t anything you hid from Sam, but he had his cardio time and you had yours, so you didn’t talk about it much. Just as he did his laundry and you did yours, and he had his dresser drawers and you had yours. So it just never came up.  
This morning you were in the gym doing a thirty minute workout in your army green yoga leggings and matching sports bra, wanting to tone your whole body. Of course you didn’t expect Dean to find you in the gym-- he was never awake at the crack of dawn, or if he was he certainly wasn’t moving out and about in the bunker.  
Meanwhile, Sam assumed the vibration in his pocket was a text from [Y/N], but instead it was from Dean, and it had an image attachment. _*Dude, you seriously need to get your girlfriend to put up a warning sign when she’s doing HOT yoga.*_ This was certainly the first time Sam was hearing the phrase ‘hot yoga’ and his girlfriend in the same sentence. He had to see whatever this photo was… unless Dean was messing with him and it was going to be some creepy clown photo. He shook his head and told himself it was worth the risk if his brother was telling the truth.  
And oh, boy, was Sam in for a treat. As soon as he laid eyes on the photo of you in the thought-provoking yoga pose, he sported a halfie. I gotta get home, he told himself. But not before sending Dean a response. _*Hands off. She’s MINE.*_  
_*I should go somewhere far away, shouldn’t I?*_  
Your boyfriend would’ve been able to sneak up on you, had he not reeked of sweat from sprinting back to the bunker. You only had a few seconds left on your last pose, coming out of it by the time Sam reached you. “How long has this ‘secret yoga’ been going on for?” was the first thing out of his mouth as his eyes raked over you.  
You chuckled and wrapped your arms around his sweaty form, knowing you were sheened in sweat as well. “Sam, we get up at the same time every morning, I don’t keep a lock on my dresser drawers, and there’s like four yoga mats right in plain sight. I would definitely _not_ call it a secret,” you snickered. If he had asked, you would’ve been happy to tell him-- but he hadn’t, so you didn’t feel the need.  
“Well, you never wear that sexy athleisure stuff around me,” he retorted, gripping your ribs with those massive hands of his. He wasn’t wrong-- typically you opted for jeans, sweatpants, or regular basic leggings that you paired with an oversized flannel. But it wasn’t like he _hadn’t_ seen every inch of you already.  
“You never invite me to go jogging with you,” you snarked back, pressing your body up against his.  
“I’d much rather try a few yoga positions with you…” he rasped, leaning down to kiss your neck. Seeing you in this outfit made him want to try _lots_ of positions with you.  
“Sam, I’m sweaty,” you whined, shying away from his lips.  
He pulled you back to him roughly. “Good. That means you were working hard,” he whispered seductively, sending a shiver through your spine and a dampness between your legs.  
“Sam,” you breathed, relaxing into him.  
But then he suddenly let go of you and took a few steps in the opposite direction before turning back around to face you. “Let me watch you do yoga.”  
You had zero qualms with his request. “Okay…” you mumbled, before suddenly forgetting any and every yoga pose you had ever practiced. Then an idea popped into your head-- you and the brothers had gone undercover at that spa retreat a few years back on a case together. “Why don’t you instruct me?” you suggested, wondering how he might react.  
The corner of Sam’s lip curled up in a grin. “Alright…” He began pacing around you, his hands clasped together behind his back as he clenched his jaw and reverted to a more serious tone of voice. “But as your instructor, I want you to address me as ‘Sir’... Understand?”  
You swallowed back the saliva accumulating in your mouth, but you couldn’t exactly do the same with the moisture between your thighs. “Yes, sir,” you finally squeaked out.  
Sam stopped a few feet in front of your yoga mat. “Good. Let’s start with Child’s Pose. Hold for twenty seconds.”  
You took a deep breath before assuming the position, inhaling and exhaling deeply as you counted to twenty, incredibly aware of Sam’s eyes on your form. You tried to focus on keeping your back straight, stretching your arms out in front of you, and pressing your thighs to your calves.  
“Beautiful,” he commented, his voice no longer in front of you. “Move into Upward Dog. Twenty seconds.”  
You straightened out your legs behind you and pushed up on your arms, noticing him in your peripheral vision. You tried to keep your breathing steady for the next twenty seconds, but your heart was hammering so loudly in your chest that you were sure Sam could hear it.  
“Deep breaths, now. Think about something calming,” his voice was gentle when he spoke again. “Like a waterfall. Or a bungalow in the Maldives.”  
_A bungalow in the Maldives…_ You could picture it when you closed your eyes, and your breathing steadied itself.  
“Good girl…” he praised. “Now I want you to go into Downward Dog.”  
An involuntary tremor ran down your spine just before you raised your ass into the air, straightening out your legs and arms. “How does my form look, sir?” you asked innocently before starting your deep breathing. You knew your back could be straighter going into your arms, but it really didn’t matter because you also knew that Sam would put his hands on you to correct it.  
Sam’s hands landed at the base of your spine, pressing you into a straighter position as he ran his hands down to your shoulders. “Much better, now,” he commented, his touch gone. “Hold for one minute.”  
You let out a heavy sigh before closing your eyes and resuming your breathing technique. Suddenly Sam’s fingertips were dipping under the waistband of your leggings and pulling the fabric down, and you were reminded of your decision to forego wearing any underwear during your workout.  
“Just as I suspected,” he chuckled softly as he dragged the pants down to your ankles while you struggled to remain in position.  
Then you remembered you were supposed to be counting to sixty. _Fuck, um… twenty-one, twenty-two…_ you estimated, hoping it wouldn’t matter as you clenched around nothing, waiting for Sam to press up against you-- but he didn’t.  
You were at _fifty-three_ when he said, “Cow pose.”  
Relaxing onto your hands and knees, you arched your back inward, tilting your head back to stretch your neck. Sam was obviously waiting for you to open your eyes and look at him before he finally slid into you, bottoming out in one go. “Fuck, Sam,” you hissed, rocking back into him, your walls pulsing.  
Sam’s arm reached over your shoulder and his fingers gently clasped around your throat. “Try again,” he growled in your ear, reminding you of what you were supposed to be calling him.  
“ _Sir_ ,” you corrected yourself in a whimper, clenching around him.  
“Good girl,” he cooed, nibbling your ear before starting a slow pace.  
“Sir, please,” you begged as you rutted back against him, needing him to go faster.  
His grip around your neck tightened as he thought up a response. “I’m in charge here… And I’ll take you how I want…”  
And _fuck_ , if the slight loss of oxygen flow and the _fucking dominant tone in his voice_ didn’t make you want to come right then and there, but you wanted to give Sam more. You _needed_ to give Sam more. “Wanna make you come,” you choked out almost too quietly for him to hear.  
He released your throat and moved his grip to your waist as he thrusted into you deeper, harder. “You always do, baby,” he breathed, finally picking up speed.  
“Hm?” you hummed teasingly, pulsing around his thick cock. _If I’m calling him sir, he doesn’t get to call me baby…_  
Releasing another grunt, he began thrusting even faster. “My good girl,” he gasped as he reveled in the feeling of your velvety walls around him. “Such a good girl…”  
“Fuck!” you cried, the pressure in your core building too quickly for you to handle. Falling onto your elbows, you moaned out your release while Sam continued to pummel into you, chasing his own.  
“Yeah, little one?” he cooed as you rode out your climax, and Sam spilled into you.  
Your body shook with the aftermath of your orgasm, and you sucked your lower lip between your teeth. “Nnnfff… Mhmmm...” you hummed, your pussy still spasming around him as you caught your breath.  
His sweat-soaked shirt clung to your back when he fell against you. “I aim to please my students…” he joked in a raspy voice, kissing your shoulders.  
You snickered to yourself before replying smugly, “You do, _sir_.”


	7. Hear Me Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Dean is away, you and Sam will… absolutely wreak havoc throughout the bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Created for @spnkinkbingo // Square Filled: Dirty Talk

Sam cleared his throat from where he was standing in the doorway to the armory, causing you to look up from your research laid out on the table in front of you and ask, “Can I help you?”  
He stalked over to you and leaned against the table. “Dean left to go help Donna with a hunt,” he stated, in the same way someone might tell you, _‘There’s a meeting at town hall today.’_ There wasn’t any particular intonation to the statement.  
You narrowed your eyes, unsure what direction he was headed. “Okay, well, do they need backup?” you prodded, setting your pen down and wondering if this was an ‘all-hands-on-deck’ type situation. But you didn’t think that was the case given the lack of urgency.  
“No,” Sam replied, shaking his head. “I’m saying… We’ve got the place all to ourselves again…” he practically spelled it out for you.  
“ _Oh_ ,” you realized, pushing your seat back. “Did he… say how long…?” The longer you got to be alone together, the better. You wouldn’t classify the bunker as close quarters by any means, but it was still a confined space with Dean and therefore not ideal. You were lucky if Sam ever got the chance to book a hotel room for the two of you to just get away.  
Sam sneered, stepping back and dropping his hands to his sides. “Does it really matter? He’ll spend at least a whole day driving there and back, and a few days in between.” He sauntered around the table and held his hands out for you to take.  
After placing your hands in his, he pulled you against him, wrapping his arms around your waist. It occurred to you that the two of you could do all sorts of things with that kind of time. “Alright, well, what did you have in mind?” you murmured, sliding your hands up his large frame to land on his shoulders and gazing into his hazel orbs.  
His eyes darkened, the corner of his lip pulling up in a devious grin. “I was thinking maybe we could play with some of the things in our goodie bag…” he suggested in a husky tone, flooding your mind with filthy images of what you’d let him do to you. Ever since he came home with it, you knew you wanted to try everything inside of it with him.  
“I wouldn’t object… But then again, we could just start here and see where things end up…” you proposed, knowing neither of you was going to be patient enough to get to the black bag in your bedroom. You could already feel his boner pressing into your stomach, and with that a dampness in your panties.  
It was obvious that Sam agreed with you by the way he picked you up and pressed you against the table, kissing you roughly. “We got plenty of time…” he mumbled into your lips, squeezing your thighs.  
You curled your fingers into the hair on the back of his neck and pressed your chest against his, deepening the kiss. “Sam,” you growled. “I want you to claim me in every room in this bunker…” You loved it when he got all primal like this.  
His chuckle vibrated against you. “What did you call me?” he chastised. _Strike one_. But maybe you could talk your way out of it.  
You leaned back to look into his galactic eyes, toying with his shirt collar. “That depends… What would you like me to call you today?” Your tone was suggestive, and you knew by the way his eyes widened slightly that he was intrigued. “There’s Sir… Daddy… Master… Or we could come up with something new, if you’d like…” Maybe he wanted you to call him other things. Maybe he wanted to hear words like, ‘my king’ or ‘your highness’. He seemed like he might have a royalty kink.  
Sam’s fingers dipped into the waistband of your jeans, looking down to gaze at your chest hungrily. “Whichever suits you… As long as it’s one of those three…” he decided.  
You’d have to talk to him about some new bedroom nicknames later. “Yes, sir.”  
*  
The two of you were completely naked by the time you made your way to the library, where Sam shoved you against a bookcase before lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist, kissing you furiously while his hard cock rubbed against your wet heat. “Look at you, such a greedy little slut for my dick even though I’ve made you come four times already…” he panted into your mouth as he teased your entrance.  
_Holy shit, he could make you come another hundred times and it wouldn’t be enough._ “Yes, Daddy, I am,” you whimpered, throwing your head back and knocking a few books off the other side of the shelf. “Wanna feel you inside me,” you moaned as he sucked at your neck, trying to buck into him for the sweet satisfaction of friction.  
“What’s the magic word, babygirl?” he chided, his cockhead gliding through your folds, yet deliberately teasing your entrance.  
“Ugh, please!” you groaned, rutting against him and tightening your grip on his shoulders.  
He snickered darkly just before sliding into you and bottoming out, fucking you hard and deep against the bookcase once he started moving. “Good girl,” he cooed, and _goddamn_ you loved it when he praised you.  
You reached back to brace yourself against one of the shelves of the bookcase you were pressed up against when you realized it was falling behind you. Purely out of panic, you yelped out, “Kansas!”, watching the bookcases topple like dominoes as Sam stilled, backed into a column, and held you close while you waited for the chaos to subside.  
When the room finally quieted, you looked up at the wreckage from where you had buried your head in Sam’s shoulder. Your boyfriend was breathing heavily, and you could feel his heart beating in his chest-- he had been just as startled by the event as you had. Neither of you could blame the other considering the level of noise caused by the wreckage.  
Turned on by the amount of damage you had caused, you clenched around Sam’s dick still inside you, wanting to do more. You faced him and stared intensely into his eyes, trying to read them and quickly giving up when you couldn’t. “Keep going,” you rasped, hoping you were on the same page.  
He smiled deviously and gave you a kiss before confirming, “You wanna knock over the other side?”  
_Oh, he’s definitely on the same page_. Giggling, you kissed him back and replied, “Only if you keep fucking me like this… _Sir_...”  
Sam spun around, pressing you against the column in his stead. “Like this?” he inquired as he thrusted in and out of you, slamming you against the concrete post over and over again. “Little whore like you always wants it like this…”  
_Jesus fucking Christ, there it was again_. You clenched around him, one of your arms reaching back to grab hold of the light fixture above your head, the other arm digging your nails into Sam’s shoulder. “Yes, daddy, please,” you whined, your knuckles straining against the metal of the sconce.  
“You’re not gonna come again until I tell you to, do you understand?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question.  
“Yes, sir, I understand…” you exhaled shakily, fighting your next orgasm. Before you knew it, you heard a crack and nothing was holding you up anymore-- the lamp broke off of the sconce from your vice grip, and you dropped it to the floor in favor of clinging to Sam.  
He seemed to be just as turned on by the destruction as you were. “I bet… you wanna wreck the rest of this place… don’t you?” he grunted in tune with his thrusts. “Have me fuck you… so hard… against every… piece of furniture… that it breaks?”  
In an attempt to stave off your climax, you focused on the feeling of the concrete thudding against your back, surely leaving bruises. It was quickly too much to think about. “Kansas,” you whispered, worried he would be disappointed in you.  
But it was Sam, he was only ever concerned about you. He stilled and took a few steps over to set you down on the library table, looking over your shoulder to check on your back, slightly pink. “I’m sorry, was that too much?” he murmured, holding your face in his hands and gently tracing his thumbs across your cheekbones.  
You shook your head, again not wanting to disappoint him. “No, no, the wall was just… getting a little scratchy… Well, a lot scratchy…” you admitted. _Come on, [Y/N], the wall was scratchy? What a pathetic excuse. He’s fucked you against plenty of walls without any qualms. He’d probably be pissed._  
But it was Sam, so he wasn’t-- not even close. “Okay, sweetheart, well do you wanna move to the bed then? I’m sure it’ll be much more comfortable,” he offered, the most sincere look in his eyes.  
You tilted your head up to kiss him chastly, thankful he understood. “We can still do some damage in the bedroom, don’t you agree?” you said playfully, a sultry expression on your face as you gazed at Sam’s. Just because you didn’t want to be fucked against the concrete didn’t mean you didn’t want to keep it rough.  
He snickered deviously, an idea popping into his head. “Why wreck _our_ room? …I mean, Dean is gone for a few days…”  
He couldn’t possibly be implying what he thought you were implying-- but if he was, you were fucking _into_ it. “You wanna wreck your brother’s room?” you clarified, narrowing your eyes.  
The look on his face told you that you were spot on. “Why not? He ruins plenty of _my_ things.” Specifically, Dean ruined his clothes by ironing them with beer, but that was just the start of the list.  
You giggled as you slid off the table and onto your feet, taking his hand in yours. “Let’s go,” you whispered before galloping towards the absent Winchester’s room.  
Sam instantly had you pressed against the desk, lips worshipping your neck, not even bothering to close the door to the room. You reached back to shove the mess on the desk aside and onto the floor before Sam lifted you up and pressed you back against the wood. His arms splayed across your torso to squeeze your breasts while he dipped his head between your legs. “How long have you wanted me to claim you in here?” he breathed into your pussy before licking a stripe through your folds and making you arch your back against the desk.  
“Always, master,” you panted, curling your fingers in his hair but resisting the urge to bury his face further, knowing he’d punish you if you did.  
He continued to tease you with his tongue, plunging it deep into your folds, circling your clit, across your entrance, until he felt your legs quaking around him, signalling that you were right on the edge. He knew your body like he knew the back of his hand-- and he wasn’t ready for you to come just yet.  
You whined when you were met with a brush of cool air between your thighs instead of Sam’s mouth, leaning up on your elbows to look at him while he held back a grin.  
“Get on the bed,” he commanded, his eyes black with lust-blown pupils, and rock hard at the idea of defiling it with you.  
You scrambled off of the desk and over to Dean’s bed, not even noticing the way the mattress partially slid off the frame when you plopped down on it-- well, not until Sam lost all the fucks he had to give (if any) and shoved it the rest of the way off while he climbed on top of you. Vaguely hearing the sound of a lamp breaking nearby, you giggled at the sounds of destruction while Sam plunged back into you. “Fuck, babe!” you gasped, hitching your legs over his shoulders as he fucked you into the mattress, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust.  
His hand went to your throat, not putting any pressure on it just yet. “What did you call me?” he growled.  
You opened your eyes to stare intensely into his galactic orbs, consumed by the feeling of him filling you while you were folded in half. “ _Sir_ …” you corrected yourself, wanting him to start moving again so you could finally come once more. “ _Please_ ,” you begged hoarsely.  
Sam’s lip curled up in a grin and he removed his hand from your throat to brace against the slanted mattress before continuing in a gradual rhythm. “Want you to come when I come, princess, can you do that?” he breathed into your ear, trailing kisses across your jaw.  
You’d do whatever he wanted. “Yes, daddy,” you whined, arching your back, hoping that it would make him reach his climax faster because you were teetering over your own.  
“Good girl… My perfect little slut...” he praised.  
_Fuck, he was making it harder to hold back your orgasm with every filthy fucking word out of his mouth._ But then he finally released inside you, and you couldn’t have held yourself back any longer even if you tried. “Fuck, _master_!” you cried as you clenched around him and reached up to clutch onto the edge of the mattress, succumbing to the most intense orgasm you’d ever had.  
Sam let your legs fall to the side when you began trembling around him, slowly riding out his high to the music of your pleasured screams. “ _Mine_ …” he panted before gently withdrawing himself from you and collapsing on top of you, his sweat-sheened skin sticking to yours.  
You dropped your arms to run your fingers through his hair, breathing heavily from the experience you just had and the empty feeling in your core. “Yours, Sam…” you murmured, kissing the top of his head. “Always yours…”  
*  
Nine days later, Dean was on his way back, and you and Sam were scrambling to clean up the bunker at the eleventh hour-- starting with Dean’s room, and ending in the library. You and Sam were finishing replacing the books on the last empty bookshelf, the stacks laid out across the nearest table.  
“You guys get into some spring cleaning without me?” Dean’s voice startled you both as he jogged down the metal steps.  
Sam snickered. “Not exactly.”  
Dean furrowed his brow before tossing his duffel onto the map table. “Whatever,” he mumbled, heading in the direction of his room.  
You and Sam looked at each other, preparing for the inevitable onslaught of questions and/or accusations that were absolutely entirely true.  
“What the fuck happened to all my lamps?” was the first thing he yelled. “And my…?” he trailed off before his footsteps stormed back down the hall and into the library. “You guys fucked in my room!”


	8. Reminders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and the reader continue their sexual adventures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Created for @spnkinkbingo // Square Filled: Caning

Dean had left to go on another assist-hunt, which meant you and your boyfriend once again had the bunker all to yourselves. Sure, you had plenty of sex regardless of who was home, but when it was _just the two of you_ , well, that called for a little something extra just because you could.  
Today that something extra gave you a special idea. “Why don’t we use… the dungeon?” you suggested, raising your brows as you held up the leather riding crop from you and Sam’s ‘goodie bag’.  
“You wanna use the sex dungeon?” Sam joked back, knowing he’d earn a laugh from you-- and he was right.  
“Hell yeah I wanna use the sex dungeon,” you bantered.  
*  
All teasing aside, you soon found yourself splayed out on the table in the middle of the dungeon, ass in the air, cunt dripping with anticipation of when the riding crop might come into contact with your skin.  
“Remind me what our safeword is,” Sam’s soothing voice echoed behind you.  
“Kansas,” you breathed just loudly enough for him to hear.  
“Good girl…” he praised, knowing how much you loved hearing it. “You gotta keep being good for me, okay?”  
The leather paddle at the end of the crop just barely traced over the skin of your spine, causing you to arch against the table in suspense. You just wished he would stop teasing you already. “Yes, sir,” you panted, wriggling your wrists within the cuffs holding you to the table when he stilled the object against your pussy.  
“You’re sure you want this?” he inquired, applying the slightest bit of pressure and making you clench around nothing.  
You nodded your head enthusiastically, helplessly bucking backwards. “I do, daddy, please,” you begged breathily. _Was he stalling on purpose?_  
“That’s my little princess…” he cooed, wiggling the crop across your lips and eliciting another set of whimpers from you. “But I want you to do one more thing for me, kitten…”  
_Fuck you were already about to come and he had barely even touched you._ “Yes, master?” you asked innocently.  
“I’m going to ask you a question… Then once I’m ready to hear your answer, I’ll let you know… with this.” He pulled the crop away from your pussy to lightly strike you across the ass, a warm-up. “And you’re going to answer… without anymore whining… Understand?”  
You nodded. “Yes, sir.”  
*  
It was almost as if Sam read your mind when he asked, “Are you done for now, kitten?” He placed the crop down on the table before going to uncuff your wrists, tilting your head up to look at him. “Baby?”  
Your ears were ringing from the myriad of orgasms he’d given you, and you hadn’t even realized he was addressing you until he held your chin up to look him in the eyes. “Hm?” you hummed, gulping back the dryness in your throat.  
Sam scooped you off of the table and into his arms, carrying you back to the bedroom you shared and tucking you into bed after noticing how exhausted you seemed. He enveloped you in his arms when he climbed into bed next to you, kissing your temple. “Are you okay?” he asked, always needing to be sure.  
You nodded groggily. “I’m fantastic… That was… Fuck, that was hot…” you told him, squeezing his arms around your waist. “I just feel bad that you didn’t get to come as many times as I did.”  
Sam chuckled, kissing your head again. “Don’t. I’m sure you’ll make it up to me somehow.”


	9. Wild West

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam decides to bring your ‘Goodie Bag’ on the road with you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Created for @spnkinkbingo // Square Filled: Wartenberg Wheel // Beta’d by @wonder-cole AKA my coke.

You had agreed to come on the hunt with Sam and Dean on the sole condition that you and Sam got your own motel room. You loved Dean like a brother, but living in the same room with the man was not something you were capable of-- things would always get too cramped with the three of you in one room for days, even weeks on end. You and the elder Winchester would be completely in each other’s space, arguing over either the best strategy of action or the fucking volume of the radio in the impala.  
Today had been a grueling day of research in town, and you were ready to take a hot bath, bundle up, and go to bed. At least, that’s what you thought when you and your boyfriend first returned to your motel room. Sam noticed how exhausted you were by the way you plopped down on the bed, kneeling on the ground in front of you to take off your shoes. “Thanks, babe,” you mumbled, reaching up to unbutton your jeans and releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding.  
Sam helped you shimmy the rest of the way out of your jeans before undressing himself for bed. Meanwhile you stripped your flannel, tank top, and bra before crawling under the sheets and waiting for Sam. Unknown to you, he grabbed something from his hunting bag in the closet before retreating to the bathroom. “Do you want me to give you a massage, baby?” Sam offered from across the room, leading you to roll over and face him.  
“Have I ever said no to a massage?” you teased, smiling at the sight of him in nothing but his boxers and v-neck. _How did I snag this hottie?_ You wondered to yourself. Sure, you’d been together for a couple of years now, but if anyone asked you, he was way out of your league. _Tall, strong, and handsome..._  
He snickered and turned around to grab your lotion off of the vanity. “Alright, get on your stomach,” he commanded gently, holding the lotion behind his back and staying where he was by the bed until you followed his instructions.  
A few moments after you rolled onto your stomach, you felt his weight dip onto the bed as he straddled your butt, pausing before beginning to drip the lotion onto your skin. “Guess we’ll just have to shower in the morning,” you mumbled into the pillow your face rested on.  
“There’s no reason we can’t do it after I give you your massage,” Sam argued, his fingers rubbing the moisturizer into your tense shoulders, his thumbs digging small circles around the blades.  
You scoffed, “Baby, you’re gonna put me to sleep first.” And if he kept massaging you the way he was now, you weren’t exaggerating about that.  
Sam finished rubbing the lotion into your skin before keeling back and responding, “Oh you think so?” Almost like it was a challenge.  
“I know so,” you sassed back, content in your position even though Sam was no longer touching you. “That is, if you keep going with those hands of yours…” you pointed out the absence of his touch-- the fact that he had stopped.  
“Actually,” he suddenly spoke into your ear. “I was thinking of continuing with something else…” His voice was low, husky, and it shot straight to your core. But you still didn’t know what he meant.  
You turned your head sideways and glanced back in Sam’s direction. “Something else?” you questioned flirtatiously. “Like what?” That’s when you saw Sam’s eyes drift over to the nightstand by your side of the bed, a silver glint catching your eye. _Oh_. You knew what it was; it came from the ‘Goodie Bag’ that usually stayed hidden in your bedroom back at the bunker.  
Sam reached over and took the wartenberg wheel in his fingertips, holding it where you could see it. “If you’re interested…” His tone was suddenly shy.  
Raising a brow, you smirked, “Oh, I am.” _That eliminated the shyness._  
He leaned down to place a peck on your lips, his eyes locking with yours. “Kansas, okay?” he murmured in that gentle tone. _He always needed to be sure._  
You nodded. “Kansas,” you confirmed before burying your head back in the pillow.  
A few moments later, you felt the pricks of the wheel gently pressing into your flesh as they went down your spine, sending a tingle of anticipation to your core. “Does that feel nice?” Sam asked softly upon noticing your muscles tense up again.  
“Mmm, feels really nice,” you purred, finally relaxing into the pattern.  
He took one last drag down your spine, pausing right before he reached the valley between your cheeks and noticing the way you arched your back into it. He smirked to himself before setting the wheel aside on the empty side of the mattress and returning to his masseuse position.  
“Why’d you stop?” you mumbled groggily, your voice muffled by the pillow.  
Sam’s hands were on your skin again, rubbing the tension out of your back muscles. “I never said your massage was finished… You’re still really tense, baby…” he replied in a low voice, building the pressure for you that much further.  
_Damn, he was serious about my tension…_ you told yourself as you felt his knuckles kneading out a hard knot, causing you to emit some unfiltered groans of pleasure-pain. “Ughhh, Sam…” you moaned, a little louder this time. “Oh god, right there…” you cried out when he popped your lower back, releasing one kind of pressure while increasing another _internal_ pressure…  
Sam chuckled and ran his fingers over your skin a couple more times before reaching back to pick up the wheel again, almost as if he knew you’d forgotten about it.  
You gasped slightly when he pressed the wheel to the skin on your lower back, running it left to right just above your tailbone, leaving a trail of small dotted imprints. You giggled a bit as it tickled your skin, squirming and wiggling as Sam continued. “Sam!” you squealed, beginning to get impatient with the heat pooling between your thighs.  
Suddenly his chest was pressed against your back, and his breath was in your ear. “Roll over,” he whispered before giving you the space to do so. You were on your back in seconds, looking up at Sam with excitement in your eyes and a bright smile on your face, and he took a snapshot in his memory. “I love you,” he mused before dipping down to trail kisses across your collarbones.  
“I love you,” you breathed, tangling your fingers in his hair while he worshipped your skin.  
After glancing up at you and noticing your eyes had fluttered shut, Sam leaned back on his knees and gently pressed the wheel against your sternum, emitting a soft whine from you. “You really like this, don’t you sweetheart?” he purred, dragging the wheel along the underside of your left breast.  
“Mhm…” you hummed in response, taking deep breaths in an attempt to keep your body relaxed, as it seemed so insistent upon not doing.  
“What was that? I didn’t hear you…” Sam teased, circling the wheel in a spiral towards your nipple.  
A wave of pressure that wasn’t nearly close enough to an orgasm rolled through you as you felt the metal prick your nipple, and you screamed out, “Yes, Sam, love it so much!”  
Not seconds later, there was a banging coming from the other side of the wall. “Cut that shit out, I’m trying to sleep!” Dean’s muffled voice yelled from the other side, completely ruining the mood.  
Sam dropped the wheel and his hair dangled in front of his face while he snickered to himself. “Sounds like we’ll have to finish this when we get home…” he said.  
You reached up to wrap your hands around his neck. “We don’t _have_ to…”  
*  
The car ride the next day was… well, awkward. But only for the reason that Dean kept looking at you in the rearview mirror. “What?” you finally blurted out after ten minutes.  
His eyes instantly darted back to the road. “You kids have fun last night?” he asked mischievously.  
“Could you grow up a little, dude?” Sam asked with an eye roll. “It’s not like we have any secrets here.”  
“Oh, I know,” Dean answered sarcastically. “What I did not know was how loud [Y/N] could be. Almost didn’t need to find any porn to watch.”  
“Almost?” you snarked. “Maybe if you hadn’t interrupted you coulda kept eavesdropping. We hadn’t even started having sex yet when your idiot ass interrupted.” Then it was Sam’s turn to glare at you in the mirror. “What, babe?” you teased. “Don’t wanna share?”  
Dean perked his head up at the sound of that. “Wait, what? Share?”  
“NO!” shouted Sam, glaring at his brother. “Hell no. In your fucking dreams. I share enough with you. Jerk.”  
“Bitch,” Dean smirked as he parked the car.  
“Can we be professionals now, please?” you asked as you reached for the door handle. “This is still a case. And we got work to do.”


	10. Trading Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a grueling hunt, you decide to stray from your usual way of doing things when Sam gets horny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Created for @spnkinkbingo // Square Filled: Power Exchange

Dean and Cas had left for a hunt, leaving you and Sam at the bunker alone. Well, until you got called in by another set of hunters that needed help on a rescue mission. Ten days later, you were practically dragging him through the door of the motel room, even after a trip to the hospital.   
“Lay down, baby,” you groaned once you reached the bed, barely able to hold up the mammoth of a man any longer. He collapsed back onto the mattress, almost like a drunk person. “Just get some rest, honey, I’ll take care of you,” you cooed as you began unbuttoning his shirt. He was unconscious within seconds.   
The next morning, Sam was glued to your back, his morning wood prominent against your ass.   
“Sam…” you mumbled groggily, patting him on the arm. He grumbled incoherently and pulled you impossibly closer. “Baby, you gotta let me go so I can take care of those injuries. Doctor’s orders,” you told him, more assertive this time.  
“Mnnmm,” he hummed. “Something else needs to be taken care of first…” His breath tickled the back of your neck while he rutted his hips against you once more.   
“Sam,” you chastised again, wiggling around in his grasp so that you could turn to face him. “I’m serious. We barely got you to the hospital. You were supposed to be part of the rescue team, not one of the people that needed rescuing.” You made sure Sam could hear the frustration in your tone so that he’d know you weren’t kidding around.   
He sighed and loosened his grip, looking down at you with soft hazel eyes. “I know. I was stupid, and I’m sorry,” he apologized. “But I want you to know that I’m okay, too.”   
You shook your head. “You’re not okay. And I know you’d be telling me the same if the roles were reversed right now,” you argued, stroking his cheek. “So, no funny business until you’re _actually_ okay.”   
Sam sneered, reaching up to hold your wrist. “I’ve had so much worse than this, honey. You’re overreacting.”  
“No, you’re underreacting, Sam. And I’m not gonna keep arguing with you about it. Kay?” you said in a firm voice you didn’t often use.   
“Okay,” he finally submitted.   
“Now be a good patient while I change these bandages, and then we’ll head back home.”  
*  
“Am I gonna have to drag you inside again?” you asked Sam sarcastically once you parked your car in the bunker garage.   
He chuckled, in higher spirits after getting plenty of rest and some good food in his stomach before you made the journey back. “No, I’m good. I’ll get myself inside if you can get the bags out of the back,” he proposed.   
“Yeah, I can do that,” you nodded. “Just make sure you go straight to bed, _not_ the archives.”  
Sam laughed again and shook his head before getting out of the car and limping through the garage while you collected the luggage from the trunk.   
Dean was quick to take the bags off your shoulders when you entered the library several minutes later, having seen Sam come through on his way in. “How’d the hunt go?” he checked in as he walked you down the halls and towards your room.  
“You saw your brother, right?” You sassed. You knew he was just trying to help, but you were still pretty cranky from the whole ordeal. “I just wanna take care of him and go to bed, that’s all.”  
He stopped and placed the bags outside the door, nodding. “I get it. Just check in with me later, okay?” You nodded back and he pulled you in for a gentle hug before retreating to his own room and leaving you there.   
Opening your bedroom door with one hand and sliding your luggage inside with the other, you joined your banged up boyfriend in your room. “You actually listened,” you teased, abandoning the task of unpacking for later and climbing into bed with Sam.   
He threw you a sneer and a glare but extended his arm across your shoulders and pulled you flesh against him. “I do have the ability to do that, ya know,” he snarked back. “In addition to some other things…” he flirted.  
You hitched your leg over his torso and straddled him, pinning him back against the mattress while making sure not to agitate his sore spots. “What’s gotten into you? Are you extra horny when you’re broken, is that it?” you playfully inquired about his recent mood.  
Sam sighed before glancing down and rubbing your arms. “No, no, it’s just… That mission was… It was more than I expected, honestly,” he admitted.   
You traced light circles on his chest, your brows furrowing. “What do you mean?”  
The man took a deep breath before vocalizing a response. “You know how some hunts are more draining than others?”  
 _Of course you knew. Any hunter that didn’t was lucky._ So when he phrased it that way, you knew what he needed-- an escape. “Yeah, baby, I know…” you murmured, leaning down to press your lips against his.   
His hands drifted up to your hips and began to squeeze, leading you to withdraw yourself. “What?” he asked innocently with those puppy dog eyes when you broke away from him.   
“Why don’t you let me be in charge this time?” you purred, running your hand along his torso. “Considering you’re on bed rest, and all…”   
Sam groaned under your touch and bucked his hips, pressing his fully erect member against you. "You think you can handle it?" he teased.  
"Oh, I'm pretty sure I can," you replied, your hands drifting down to where his were before curling your fingers around his wrists and sliding his arms back above his head.   
“Is that right?” he kept up the banter, relaxing into your movements.   
You nodded, biting your lower lip while your eyes grazed over him. _This should be fun… I can never get him to be submissive for me…_ “You know it, baby.” You wiggled your eyebrows and ground against his hard dick. “My question is… _Can you_?”   
You could tell the only reason Sam was able to restrain himself from rolling on top of you was because he was still pretty sore, and you’d been making sure he was taking his pain meds, which couldn’t have been doing him any favors. But he still had a fiery glint in his eyes that confirmed what his words did. “Absolutely,” he answered confidently.   
Snickering darkly, you brought your face closer to his. “Yeah? So… I can use some of the things from our ‘goodie bag’ with you?” Sam smirked and lifted his head slightly to press his lips against yours enthusiastically. “Kansas?” you offered when he pulled away.   
His lip curled up in a grin and he gave a small nod. “Kansas.”   
You placed a peck on his cheek before standing up off of the bed and undressing yourself on your way to the wardrobe that contained the black paper bag full of supplies for sexual escapades, locking the bedroom door as you passed by. “You stay in bed, mister,” your voice rang across the room while you rummaged around for what you were looking for. _You’d have to make sure he would remain still in a way that was also comfortable for him with his various bruises, fractures, and stitches._  
So you grabbed the silk ties that Sam had purchased a while back as an alternative to the ropes-- depending on the occasion, of course. When you turned around, you noticed Sam’s eyes had been glued to you the whole time, and his right hand had wound its way under the sheets to palm himself.   
Stalking back over to the bed and climbing on top of him, you pinned his arms back against the headboard once more. “I’m sorry Sammy, was I unclear?” you chastised, chest to chest, feeling his heart racing under his skin. “ _I’m in charge_. That means _I_ say when you get to touch yourself,” you declared. “And for that, I’m going to tie you up so that you don’t get to touch _anything_. Including me.”   
You bound his hands together before binding them to the headboard. You knew he could easily break the ties if he was at full strength, but with him being injured, it may be enough to keep him restrained. You ran your hands down his arms and back to his chest, grinding your hips down on his rock hard length and making him groan.   
Something on the nightstand caught the corner of your eye. “Where’d you get that, Sam?” you inquired, raising your eyebrow and trying to hide your excitement from the idea that popped into your head with a stern expression.   
“Oh, Dean had it waiting there when I got back,” Sam answered after glancing back at the bucket full of ice and a bottle of liquor, the hint of a smirk rising on his lips. “Why? You getting ideas, baby? I know you like it when I lick you with a cold tongue...”  
“I’m getting ideas, alright,” you confirmed, thinking that although face riding may be out of the question, blowing him definitely wasn’t.   
You reached over and grabbed a piece of ice, dragging it across your tongue suggestively before sliding it down the valley of your breasts, leaving a trail of water in its wake. You could see Sam’s eyes widen as you placed the cube between your clenched teeth and leaned down to trace the ice along Sam’s collarbone, eliciting moans from him that grew louder the closer you got to his throbbing dick.  
The ice began melting at a much faster pace as soon as Sam’s cock joined the ice cube in your mouth, and you swirled your tongue around the head, hearing more of the man’s whimpers and savoring everything about the moment. You continued to work him in your mouth while Sam strained against his binds until the rest of the cube melted away.  
“[Y/N], please,” he panted, bucking into your mouth.   
You instantly withdrew from him and pinned his hips down against the mattress, glaring up at him. “Oh, Sammy. You didn’t learn anything from watching me behave for you, did you?” you chided. “You don’t get to call me that while I’m in charge…” You licked a stripe up his shaft before crawling back up to him and grinding your pussy against his dick. “You call me Ma’am… or Madam… or Mistress… Got it?”  
Sam let out another whine before swallowing hard and nodding enthusiastically. “Yes Ma’am,” he breathed, finally relaxing into the pillows behind him.   
Sighing in contentment as you sank onto his thick cock, you stilled on top of him when he was bottomed out, leaning against his chest and staring into his galactic eyes. “Now… I’m gonna ride you… and you’re not gonna come until I tell you to…” you purred.   
He gulped again before responding in a barely audible whisper. “Yes, Madam.”  
You snickered darkly before beginning to gradually rock back and forth while he was helpless to touch you. “Good boy…” you praised, wondering if he’d like it as much as you did.  
From the way he bucked up beneath you and thrust into your sweet spot, you assumed he did. You had to tighten your thighs around his hips to keep him pinned down.   
“I know you’re excited baby, but you gotta let me do the work, okay?” you cooed, continuing to ride him slowly. You felt your orgasm building more rapidly than you expected and you kept your pace steady, knowing it would be an intense one. “Can you feel how close I am?” you goaded him. “Can you feel me getting tighter?”  
Sam hissed and bit his lip before answering. “Yes… yes, mistress,” he choked out, his willpower just barely keeping him from coming too soon. “Mistress, p-please,” he begged, “please, may I come?”  
Just hearing him begging for your permission was nearly enough to send you over the edge, but you knew you needed more, so one of your hands made its way to your bundle of nerves while you responded. “Come when you feel me come, sweet boy…”   
Sam didn’t have to wait long for your release, his own washing over him right along with it, the moans coming out of his mouth absolutely _sinful._  
“Perfect, baby, perfect!” you exclaimed while you finished riding out your high, his seed spilling into you while the walls of your pussy clenched around him.   
When your body finally stopped trembling with the waves of pleasure that course through you, you fell onto Sam’s chest, breathing heavily. “Hmmm…” Sam hummed. “That…” he trailed off again. “Wow.”  
You chuckled and shook your head before looking back up at him and placing a gentle kiss on his lips. “You can say that again,” you joked while you reached up to untie him from the headboard. “And you’re okay? I didn’t agitate anything?” you checked in with him.  
He chuckled, entertained by the idea that you were just as keen on ensuring he was comfortable as he was about you when the roles were reversed. “Yes, sweetheart, I’m fine.” He reached up to stroke your cheek once his arms were free. “You always take care of me.”


End file.
